


Slowly, Then All At Once

by orphan_account



Category: Glee
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe, Boypussy, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Mpreg
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-05-15
Updated: 2013-11-01
Packaged: 2017-12-11 23:01:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 15,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/804237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He's going to change lives. Blaine Anderson, just sixteen, is going to give those who desperately desire a child, but are unable to bear one themselves, the opportunity to become a parent. He is going to give so much love to a world that might otherwise continue in longing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. One

**Pairing:**  Kurt/Blaine

 **Rating:**  NC-17/M

 **Story Warnings/Kinks:** Mpreg, bp!Blaine, age difference, allusions to dubcon/slavery, mentions of miscarriage

* * *

 

 **The Legal Contract between Ohio Regional Carrier Centre and one**   _Blaine Anderson_ **, signed 21st September 2009**

 **I, the undersigned,**   _Blaine Anderson_ **, consent to give my body to the Ohio Regional Carrier Centre for the determined time of** _ten years_ **, producing healthy children until such time as my contract is up or extenuating circumstances such as familial circumstances or medical problems render me incapable of continuing.**

**In exchange for the continuing production of healthy children, the ORCC will cover all medical costs of the pregnancies and the costs of my care and residence on the centre. My safety will also be ensured, and if at any point a client makes me feel unsafe, then the centre will have the responsibility to ensure my well-being is attended to before the client's.**

**Signed:**   _Blaine Devon Anderson, 21st September 2009_

He can smell the ink drying on the life-changing document as the woman before him smiles reassuringly and reaches for a pen to add her own signature to the paper, as he stares at the lines of laughter around her bright eyes, the grey gathering in feathered waves at her temples. Has he really chosen to do this? To give over his life and body to creating children others would love and cherish, for ten long years? He'll be almost thirty by the time he's legally entitled to leave the centre, long years spent bearing and birthing children he would never even see, never get to hold.

But when he looks around the room, at the pictures of happy couples and people holding their newly-born, healthy, perfect children, he knew he had chosen the right path. How many other doors would his unusual anatomy open for him? Surrogacy will be a life of giving, of bringing smiles to faces and a joyful gleam to eyes, and it's a life he wants.

"Welcome to the family, Mr. Anderson," she says charmingly, laying the pen down and giving him a sweet smile. "You have three weeks to wrap up all your affairs and for us to have a room organised for you here, then you will be able to move in. There will be a month's training programme which we have all of our carriers go through, then you will be ready to start finding clients and getting pregnant."

Blaine grins at her and shook her hand politely, pulling his hood over his head as he leaves the building into a day dreary with light drizzle and darkly swollen clouds scudding across the sky. He can't help the glow swelling within him as he walks the streets, dirty water splashing over his feet with each car that drives past, irritable drivers squinting through rainwashed windscreens.

He's going to change lives. Blaine Anderson, just sixteen, a virgin and the possessor of female anatomy that has gained him nothing but bullying and being shunned by peers throughout his life, is going to give those who desperately desire a child, but are unable to bear one themselves, the opportunity to become a parent.

He is going to give so much love to a world that might otherwise continue in longing.

* * *

Blaine loses his virginity around a month after he moves into the centre, to man with dark skin and wide eyes and gentle hands on his trembling body, who reassures him softly and sweetly, whose caresses send heat flickering slowly over his skin, who kisses him to distract him from the inevitable pain when he first pushes into him, who holds him for a while afterwards, kissing his temple and thanking him and leaving him sleepy and warm and sated when he has to leave.

The man's name is Andrew, he's a single man in his thirties who has always longed to be a father. While Blaine's pregnant, Andrew tells him stories about his own father, speaks of a man who was the superhero he always looked up to, and Blaine smiles to himself and curves his hands over the growing bulge of his stomach, feeling the child within growing with each passing day.

He doesn't hold the baby he gives birth to, doesn't even see her. He's informed that she was healthy and beautiful, that Andrew cried with gratitude when he was allowed to hold her, that he named her Rosa and took her away from the centre, away to a place where Blaine will never see her. But he doesn't mind the arrangement. Seeing a baby means meeting their eyes, and meeting their eyes means developing an emotional connection, falling in love with the children he carries, and he can't do that. He has to keep with the terms dictated by his contract, and he can't keep a baby he births, he must give their care over to his clients.

His next pregnancy doesn't go as well, and his client is rougher during conception, his hands too firm on his skin and his eyes dark and holding some wild, something Blaine's afraid of, but he lies still and takes it, as he's expected to do. He's sore for a few days afterwards, but they conceive with the first try and he doesn't have to repeat the experience.

But he loses this child, in a late night incident that's bloody and traumatic. He cries afterwards, feeling empty and desolate and a disappointment to everybody, though Nurse Pilsbury wraps her arms gently around him and assures him it wasn't his fault, and some things are just so beautiful they can't exist in this world. He takes three months to recuperate, to mend his shattered heart and let his confidence return to him.

His next client is a pair of young men, their faces still lingering with traces of baby fat, innocence still in their eyes, and they hold hands and smile into each other's eyes and have long conversations in a moment without words throughout their initial consultation. The smaller one, a blonde with a wide smile and an excitable way of talking, is the biological father, the one who lays Blaine out gently in a warm bed and kisses slowly over his shoulders and neck and collarbones throughout their sex, and Blaine arches up into every wet press of lips to his skin, soft groans bubbling in his chest. The man leaves immediately afterwards, no doubt back to his boyfriend's arms, and Blaine lies there with his mind still a little fuzzy, a smile on his face that doesn't fade for close to two days.

This is the pregnancy that teaches Blaine he loves being pregnant, seeing his changing body in the mirror and caressing lovingly over the swell of his belly, keeping his hands there just to feel the baby nudging their feet and hands and elbows against his touch, singing softly to the child inside him as he walks the corridors of the centre, the nurses smiling fondly on their newest worker, pretty and young and fertile and very much in demand.

This baby is a boy, and the couple, Chandler and Eli, name him Stephen and both send Blaine cards and gifts of maternity clothes and fruit baskets and chocolates for close to a year afterwards, heart-warmingly grateful for the gift he gave them, a baby to love and cherish for eighteen years.

Another pregnancy passes quickly, this from an older couple, who've been married for fifteen years and have tried everything to have children, but are infertile and unable to have their own biologically. Blaine's heart aches for their plight, and he gladly takes several instances of sex with the husband, his fertility winning out and having him pregnant by the fourth time. This couple glows when he falls into an exhausted sleep after giving birth to twin boys, named by their parents as Ryan and Daniel, and taken into a household that sends Blaine Christmas and birthday cards that he accepts with a smile on his face.

His next client is handsome, infallibly arrogant and almost fifty years old, grey scattered through his dark hair and lines around his constantly smirking mouth. When he takes Blaine, it's with a lazy self-assurance that he'll find it amazing without hands on his skin, and Blaine lies still and quiet through it, no provocation to writhe or make a sound laid into his flesh. Blaine gets pregnant after the first time once again, and this pregnancy is awful on him.

He wonders if this child, the fourth baby he'll birth, now twenty-one and one of the centre's most successful clients, has taken some of its father's characteristics. He's constantly sick, starting every morning worshipping the porcelain throne, as another of the workers, Tina, refers to it fondly. His back aches and the baby presses into his bladder and some mornings he doesn't want to get out of bed. There's nothing abnormal about the pregnancy, just a large baby with an obvious streak of its father's arrogance to it.

This is the nine months that changes everything.


	2. Two

**Pairing:**  Kurt/Blaine

 **Rating:**  NC-17/M

 **Story Warnings/Kinks:** Mpreg, bp!Blaine, age difference, allusions to dubcon/slavery, mentions of miscarriage

* * *

Kurt swipes his hand over another sketch, smearing the graphite an ugly grey across the page, and tosses the crumpled paper ball towards the bin, running his hands through his hair and staring down at the taunting blank pages of the sketchbook in his lap. He has a deadline a month from now, and he can't even begin to create the final design, one he hopes will be the centrepiece of the show. He can't conceive of shapes or colours, and each touch of his pencil to the paper ends in disaster, something scrawled and hasty that could never catch an eye from anyone.

He looks up into the park, where he'd come while home for a long weekend, in the hopes the fresh air, greenery and bright primary colours of the children's playground could inspire his sluggish mind, and sees the families there. Men in their T-shirts and jeans, pushing young children on the swings, women talking with apple-cheeked babies on their knees, and the little ones running and shrieking and falling over themselves, filled with an innocent joy that adults could never hope to recapture.

He can't help the small smile that slips onto his face, watching a particular little boy, chasing his father around the park, laughing and grinning even when he stumbles. He can see himself, maybe, one day, chasing a boy like that, a child with his eyes, another man waiting for them with a smile on his face.

With a sigh, Kurt shuts his notebook and slots it back into his satchel, running a hand through his hair and trying to distract himself from the feeling that has nagged at him for close to three years now, since he began establishing himself a good career, and started thinking about marriage and children. He's been broody since hitting twenty-five, and is still yet to find someone to have a baby with and raise children and live in the generic two-story house with the white picket fence and the regimented flowers and the dog leaping at their heels.

He knows of the clinics, and he knows of the one closest to his childhood home, the Ohio Regional Carrier Centre, and he always knew that, being gay, he'd have to resort to one of them one day, to be able to have children with a man he loved. But, the thing is, for a year now he's been thinking about simply going to one of the centres, choosing a worker there and having a baby by himself. He has the space, the means to raise a child, a job with flexible hours and he wants to be a father so badly his being aches with it.

It's perhaps his most impulsive side that leads him to sitting in a blue-cushioned chair in the reception, a consultation form in his hands and the receptionist humming to herself as he waits for one of the white-clothed nurses to take him through to the room where they'll quiz him and offer him files of their workers based on what he says.

"It's very nice to meet you, Mr. Hummel," the auburn-haired nurse says sweetly, shaking his hand as he sits down nervously, expecting her to gaze on him with pity or condescension, but not this gentle joy and understanding. "I've heard of your designs, I was wearing a gown you designed the night my husband asked me to marry him. The red one from the 2012 winter collection. It was the inspiration for our wedding song." Kurt smiles, flattered, and runs his eye over the fragile woman, the design-focused section of his mind already imagining her in long sleeves and floor-length hems, medieval style. "Shall we get down to business? Are you here with a partner, or alone? I'll also need your age, orientation, current place of residence and your reason for wanting a child."

"I'm here alone, there isn't currently any partner to speak of," Kurt begins to answer with a wry smile. "I'm twenty-eight, gay, I currently live in a two-bedroom-one-bathroom apartment in Manhattan and I want a baby because I have always wanted kids. I never had any siblings, until my stepbrother when I was seventeen, but I've always loved being with younger children and helping them, and it's that time in my life, I think. I haven't found my one and only yet, but I want a baby, desperately, and I have the space and the financial means to happily raise a child without needing another man by my side. At the moment, imagining a little girl or boy looking up at me with my eyes, and calling me 'Daddy', is what wakes me up in the morning with a smile on my face."

"I think I have just the person for you," the nurse says with a secretive smile, opening a drawer in front of her and extracting a file marked with  _ANDERSON, BLAINE DEVON_  in heavy black ink. "He's currently seven months pregnant, but that doesn't stop you from being able to meet him and sign a contract, and come in to do the deed, as it were, in five months when he's had the baby and been given the requisite three months of recovery time."

Kurt takes the file, opens it and skims the contents, seeing that this worker is a mere twenty-one years old and one of the most popular ones in the place. Young, fertile, healthy, about to birth a fifth baby after three other pregnancies, one set of multiples and an early-term miscarriage, and, from the picture in the file, very pretty. Bright, laughing eyes, untamed dark curls and a smile that could light up a dark room. Blaine Devon Anderson, the possible carrier of his child. "May I meet him today?" he asks of the nurse, looking up from the file with a hopeful smile crossing his face, unbidden.

The nurse smiles widely and ushers him out of the office and down the corridor, to where it begins to seem more like a hospital or a school or any corporate building, the names of each worker embossed in silver plaques on their doors. Kurt catches glimpses of workers, some talking to nurses, some to obvious clients, and some heavily pregnant and shuffling through the corridors. One, a pretty Asian girl with a small but obvious bump beneath her shirt, catches his eye as the nurse guiding him pauses outside Blaine Devon Anderson's room, and gives him a grin and a wink.

"Blaine, I've brought along a client to meet you," the nurse says, opening the door and ushering Kurt inside, to see that radiant smile in person, on a man who carefully eases himself off the bed to cross the room and shake Kurt's hand. "Blaine, meet Kurt Hummel. Kurt, meet Blaine Anderson."

"Kurt Hummel, the designer?" Blaine guesses with a lifted eyebrow. Kurt flushes slightly and nods happily, and Blaine's eyes light up. "I honestly worship your work, sir. I love your use of bowties to add colour to otherwise dark ensembles, I own several of your patterned designs myself, for when I'm not pregnant and swollen everywhere." Kurt's eyes fall to the swell of Blaine's belly beneath the clinging fabric of his shirt. It's amazing, seeing that this man isn't ashamed of his bump, isn't ashamed of himself for being able to carry children, but proud, and showing off the baby growing within him, his belly button pushing against the dark fabric.

"There's no need to call me 'sir', Blaine, I'm just a normal human being who happened to get lucky with a fabulous internship straight out of school," Kurt says with a blush playing around his cheeks. "I have a feeling I'm going to like you."


	3. Three

**Pairing:**  Kurt/Blaine

 **Rating:**  NC-17/M

 **Story Warnings/Kinks:** Mpreg, bp!Blaine, age difference, allusions to dubcon/slavery, birth scenes, mentions of miscarriage

* * *

 

Blaine gives birth on a cold, late night, during a long, painful labour. Tina sits at his side, one hand stroking over her own bump and the other wrapped tight around Blaine's as he cries, begging in broken screams for someone to end the agony, to take him away from this. The moment Emma gently lifts the baby girl into her arms to clean her up and call her father, Blaine falls asleep, exhausted and sore and feeling nothing of the usual satisfied glow.

Three months pass. He follows Kurt's every move in the magazines and the gossip blogs, smiling dreamily on pictures of him on the red carpet, at fashion shows, surrounded by thin, beautiful models. Tina teases him about being moony-eyed and rosy-cheeked over him, but Blaine pushes down her fanciful ideas. His profession is having other men's children, there is no room in his life for a relationship, no matter how much he might want to have one.

Then, on a November day carrying a bitter wind and a heavy chill in the air, Blaine's gazing thoughtfully out of the window, at circles of frost slowly melting down the glass panes and the white-swathed dark skeletons of trees against the pearly-grey horizon, when Emma comes to his door, a wide smile lighting up her eyes as much as the yellow bow in her hair brightens her entire being. "You have a visitor," she says, before standing aside and ushering Kurt into the room. As she leaves, she exaggeratedly mouths  _Here to discuss signing a contract with you_  at him.

"You look...different," Kurt says hesitantly, perching nervously on the edge of Blaine's bed, fidgeting with the edge of the blanket, rolling the thick knitted tassels between his fingers.

"Not pregnant, you mean," Blaine says wryly. "I think I've spent more time over these last five years seeing myself pregnant than I have when I'm not. It's a bit strange, to be honest. But it seems to attract clients." He sits on the sofa opposite the bed, slipping his hands beneath his thighs and offering Kurt an earnest smile.

"Well, you attracted me," Kurt says with a slightly bashful smile and a slight duck of his head. They sit for a moment in a silence edged with tension, until Kurt clears his throat and says, "I've discussed this with Emma, the lovely lady, on the phone over the last few months, and she says it would be possible for us to go about it like this." He meets Blaine's eyes, and his tone is strong as he says, "I want to sign a contract with you. But, if you don't mind, I want to discuss changing the usual terms a little."

"Fire away," Blaine says sweetly, crossing one leg neatly over the other, tilting his head to one side as he always does when he has to think, lips curving into a wide smile as Kurt shifts over the room and sits down next to him, fingers brushing briefly over Blaine's thigh, making him shiver as he never has before at the contact.

"I hate the general idea of these contracts," Kurt says, gesturing with his hands to emphasise his point. "They seem so impersonal. We discuss, we come to an agreement, we both sign a piece of paper, we have sex until you're pregnant, wait out nine months, I take the baby and then we never see each other again. We don't even have to be friends, for all a client generally cares you could hate the sex, as long as you end up giving them a healthy baby at the end of it all." He reaches out, his fingers sliding, caressing over the back of Blaine's hand. "I don't want what will happen between us to be so formal and cold. It's a relationship, it should be special."

Blaine pushed down a hum of contentment, the flush he felt rising up his neck at the very idea of getting to know Kurt a little better, of getting a feel for what shone inside the beautiful man before he felt their bodies move together in an ancient carnal dance. "I think that sounds like a wonderful idea."

It doesn't take long for Blaine to find himself in Emma's office, a contract of four pages spread out over the dark wood of the table, Emma smiling cheerfully at them and offering them both a pen.

Blaine's eyes runs over the neat final-page summary of the chunks of black text, and he smiles to himself as Kurt etches his name first, then he does the same.

 **The Legal Contract between one**   _Kurt Hummel_ **and one**   _Blaine Anderson,_ **signed** _5th November 2014_ **, within the legal boundaries of Ohio Regional Carrier Centre**

 **I, the undersigned,**   _Blaine Anderson_ **, consent to conceive, carry and birth a healthy child to the undersigned,** _Kurt Hummel_ **. The obligation between the two of us will last only from the moment this contract is signed until the baby is born.**

 **At the request of the undersigned,**   _Kurt Hummel_ **, a meeting will be held each week between the two of us in order to become well-acquainted before conception is attempted.**

 **Signed:**   _Kurt Elizabeth Hummel, 5th November 2014_ **;** _Blaine Devon Anderson, 5th November 2014_

"Congratulations, Mr. Hummel," Emma says sweetly, stacking the papers and slotting them neatly into a folder marked in small, cramped handwriting with Hummel and Anderson. "And congratulations, Blaine. Kurt, you may come in for your first meeting on Wednesday, and I hope you will both be very happy with this arrangement."

Blaine has to try very hard not to show how it affects him when Kurt squeezes his wrist and presses a gentle kiss to his cheek before he leaves.


	4. Four

**Pairing:**  Kurt/Blaine

 **Rating:**  NC-17/M

 **Story Warnings/Kinks:** Mpreg, bp!Blaine, age difference, allusions to dubcon/slavery, birth scenes, mentions of miscarriage

* * *

 

"You don't need to make yourself look so handsome," Quinn says cheekily, kicking her feet up onto the coffee table and opening the latest issue of  _Vogue_  to look at the spread on Kurt's latest collection. "He's just a carrier."

"Blaine isn't just a carrier, Quinn," Kurt chided, holding two ties up side by side to compare them against the lavender of his shirt. "No one is. They're all people who are wonderful enough to dedicate their lives to giving children to those who can't have them biologically. And Blaine is special to me. He's why I changed the terms of the usual contract, like I told you about, remember?"

"Yeah, yeah, weekly meetings so you can get to know him better before you do the deed and wait for the baby to come before you get the hell out and let him move on to the next client," Quinn says. "The dark purple tie, by the way. For what it's worth, you look great."

"If you call Marie and finish arranging that interview for me, even though you hate talking to her assistant, I will pick us up curries on the way back and give you all the details," Kurt says, smiling as Quinn immediately picks up the phone. She offers up her cheek and he kisses it and ruffles her hair fondly, ducking out of the way before she can do the same as he leaves, determined to be on time for his appointment with Blaine. To see Blaine.

Blaine's waiting once Kurt's arrived and smiled at Emma who welcomed him in with open arms, sitting on the edge of the bed in his room, and his entire being visibly brightens when Kurt walks in, tamping down the urge to wrap his arms around the man and lift him into a warm hug. "I booked a table at Breadstix, which is, of course, the height of sophisticated restaurants in this grand state of Ohio, and it'll be ready in half an hour in case you want to change. If you don't, we can walk there, it's a gorgeous day."

"I think I'd like to get changed, I'm not dressed for a beautiful candlelit dinner at Breadstix," Blaine says with a soft teasing smile, gesturing down at his loose shirt and sweatpants. "Just, give me a moment, and please don't judge my fashion sense too harshly. Let go of the part of your mind that critiques people's clothes and just be yourself."

Kurt smiles and sits down on the edge of the bed, averting his eyes courteously as Blaine pulls his shirt over his head, hearing the rustling of clothes and the click and swish of coathangers. He only looks up when Blaine says his name, and smiles over his ensemble, the glimpse of ankle between the meticulously polished black shoes and the hems of his bright red jeans that he somehow makes work, and the striped bowtie resting neatly against the black of his shirt. "You look great, and that's the incredibly judging of people's fashion sense Kurt talking," he says sweetly, stepping forward to adjust the bowtie without thinking about his actions first. For a moment they gaze at each other, and Kurt looks at the first man he's been given the opportunity to kiss in two years, Blaine's eyes slightly closed and his lips parted, his breath too loud in Kurt's ears, and for a moment he almost lowers his mouth to match Blaine's.

But he can't. They agreed to take it slow, it's the purpose of the meetings, otherwise they'd be wearing a lot less clothes and be sliding and grinding together on the bed instead of standing close, lips tantalisingly close and yet so far away from each other's. "Okay, we better go or we might miss our reservation, and we all know how in demand Breadstix is," he says, pulling away and turning to lift his foot onto the bed and fix the laces of his shoe, fiddling with his tie.

It takes only a brief moment for them to fall into step when they're outside in the clear, crisp day, the dry skeletons of fallen leaves blowing past their feet as they walk in a companionable silence. Out of the corner of his eyes, Kurt sees Blaine shivering in the rolling winds drifting past them, and rummages in his satchel for a spare scarf, turning to him and looping it around his neck, pulling it tight against his skin and buttoning his coat up further. "We don't want you to catch a cold," he says softly, wanting to kiss him again but stopping himself. Blaine smiles and squeezes his hand as he pulls away, his fingers brushing for the briefest moment against the soft skin of Blaine's shaven cheek.

In Breadstix, sitting in one of the booths with a plate of spaghetti bolognese for two between them, Kurt can't help but want to kiss Blaine over and over again, every little thing making him more intensely attractive, from his table manners to the shine of his eyes when he talks about his work, or asks Kurt about himself, his attentive smile when Kurt was talking.

"Oh, wait, I've got one," Blaine says, taking another sip of his coffee and offering Kurt an utterly dazzling smile. "Ryder, one of the other boys in the centre, had a client who had... _issues_  with performing. Bedroom-wise."

"You are kidding me!" Kurt exclaims through his laughter, spearing his last piece of brownie on his fork. "So did Ryder actually get pregnant with him, or did Emma have to sweetly explain that his little issue meant he couldn't really get him pregnant?"

"Eventually, Emma took him aside and offered him pills to help, and Ryder ended up pregnant first time as soon as the client stopped being stubborn, and he ended up with fraternal twins and was very pleased with the consideration of the centre," Blaine says with a smile. "Can we start walking back now? It's a really beautiful night and I can't possibly eat another bite."

He starts pulling out his wallet to count out change, but Kurt covers Blaine's hand with his to stop him. "Don't you bother, silly, I'm paying for this," he says, extracting his own wallet. "If you have a problem, you can pay for the pizzas I'm already planning for us to have next time." Blaine smiles and Kurt can't help the thrill that sings through his veins when Blaine slides their fingers together as they leave, swinging their entwined hands between them as they walked through the orange-striped streets.

"I had a great time," Kurt says when they reach the steps of the centre, as Blaine turns to him, unwrapping Kurt's scarf from around his neck and pressing it back into his hands, his face lit up beneath the glow of the streetlamps.

"Me too," Blaine says sweetly, squeezing Kurt's hand and giving him a bright, dizzyingly happy smile. "I can't wait to go out with you again. I'm so glad you decided to go this way with what we're doing."

Kurt goes to kiss Blaine's cheek in thanks for a wonderful evening and everything they'll share in the future, but Blaine turns his head before Kurt's lips brush his cheek, and their mouths end up meeting in a sweet, brief kiss. Kurt breaks away after a moment, a flush nestling high in his cheeks and his eyes starry and unfocused. "I'll see you at the same time next week," he says, and Blaine drifts into the centre with a little wave.

When Kurt stops off to buy Quinn her curry, he can't stop smiling, and he doesn't stop, even when Quinn lectures him about her awful conversation with Marie. Now he knows, he really knows, that the father of his child is sweet and smart and charming and funny.

And the most perfect kisser Kurt has ever had the pleasure of being so close to.


	5. Five

**Pairing:**  Kurt/Blaine

 **Rating:**  NC-17/M

 **Story Warnings/Kinks:** Mpreg, bp!Blaine, age difference, birth scenes, allusions to dubcon/slavery, mentions of miscarriage

* * *

Blaine floats dreamily around the room as he gets ready for his and Kurt's next meeting, an amateur production of  _RENT_  that Kurt got them tickets for, shyly confessing over the phone that it was the first musical he auditioned for off-Broadway while he was at Parsons, and he played Angel for a three-week run. Blaine can almost feel himself falling harder and harder for Kurt with every moment they spend together, and contracts don't seem to matter anymore.

"You are so smitten, this is ridiculous," Tina says, lounging on his bed and caressing a hand slowly over her bump. "Try the bowtie with the little pizzas on it with the blue polo and the black jeans, and put socks on for God's sake, it's freezing out there."

"Can I wear the socks with the little fries on them, have an entire meal on my body?" Blaine jokes, to Tina huffing over his terrible sense of humour and throwing a handful of rejected bowties at his head. "I don't know, shouldn't my outfit be a little classier for the theatre?"

"It's just amateur theatre, then you're going out for pizza, I think it'll be very cute," Tina tells him, carefully easing herself up. "Okay, I'm going back to my room, have a wonderful evening with Prince Charming, Cinderella. But please, come back here with both your shoes on."

Blaine smiles at his friend and ruffles her hair as she left, adjusting his bowtie in the mirror and tucking his shirt neatly into his jeans, until a knock comes at the door and he almost knocks his kneecap hard against the frame of his bed as he finishes adjusting his shoes, pulling the door open to meet Kurt's sparkling eyes, his hair perfectly coiffed as usual, utterly heart-stopping in a custom-tailored grey suit and silk shirt. "My God, you look..." Blaine trails off, tracing his eyes along the curves and angles of his body, beautifully outlined by his suit. "I can't even think of a word. You are just...completely indescribable."

Kurt smiles bashfully and ducks his head, hands neatly behind his back. "I bought you something," he says, softly, shyly, and proudly holds up a stunning bouquet of red and yellow roses. Blaine's jaw drops around a soft gasp, and he takes the flowers as reverently as he's seen men hold their newborn children, as Kurt magically produces a vase from behind his back too, ducking into the bathroom to fill it with water and place it just so on the nightstand.

They arrive at the theatre together, Kurt's arm around Blaine, warm and comforting and so wonderfully familiar, stylish and elegant, long and lithe and completely gorgeous as he hands the tickets to the usher with practised ease, his arm around Blaine, with some of his curls springing out of their gel after getting soaked by snow on their walk from the centre, dressed in jeans and a polo clinging to the softness of his stomach that he stopped trying to exercise away two years ago, instead choosing to enjoy it, his socks patterned with fries and his bowtie with pizzas.

Being in the theatre with Kurt is a whole new experience. Someone there with him who shares a passion for the story, clinging to his hand through everything, giggling slightly at Blaine when he produces a handkerchief from his pocket when he starts crying during  _One Song Glory_ , singing loudly along with him during  _La Vie Boheme_ , wrapping his arms as much around him as he can during  _Without You_ , crying into his shoulder from  _I'll Cover You (Reprise)_  all the way to  _Finale B_ , and keeping an arm wrapped loosely around him when they both stand up to cheer themselves hoarse and applaud until their hands are red-raw.

The pizza place is certainly a lot less formal than the theatre, and Kurt strips off his elegant jacket and untucks his shirt, slipping the top two buttons from their loopholes, sitting neatly opposite Blaine with one leg crossed loosely over the other, the toe of his shoes dragging over Blaine's calf as he jiggles his leg in time with the music issuing through the speakers overhead. "So what's Kurt Hummel's life story?" he asks softly, and Kurt laughs and smiles, eyes sparkling.

"I was born in Lima, Ohio, when my mum was twenty-one and my dad was twenty-four," Kurt begins with a soft smile. "They knew I was gay by the time I was five, and I knew who I was my whole life. School was very long and boring for me, I was bullied a little bit in high school, and I had the world's worst job at the Lima Bean just so I could earn enough money to move to New York when I graduated and go into Parsons. I ended up dropping out when I was twenty-one for personal reasons, got an internship at , I was lucky enough to become Isabelle Wright's protégé and started my own label at twenty-two, and six years later I'm sitting here with you. And what about you? What is the tale behind Blaine Devon Anderson?"

"Oh, I'm very boring," Blaine says softly. "I was born in Westerville, grew up there, was teased all through school because of my body, left when I was sixteen and joined the centre." He met Kurt's eyes. "Next week, we should stay in, make popcorn, watch a film and talk about bad things in our pasts. I think we need to know every side of each other."

Kurt nods and smiles, waving the waitress over for Blaine to pay the bill before pulling him close and dragging him out of the place, back into the night, ethereally lit by the lights of the streetlamps reflecting against the snow. Kurt wraps an arm around Blaine, pulling him close. It takes Blaine a moment to realise that Kurt is singing, soft and sweet and clear in the night, utterly beautiful, passionate in a way Blaine never could have expected.

 _"Live in my house, I'll be your shelter_  
Just pay me back with one thousand kisses  
Be my lover, and I'll cover you."

Blaine smiles as Kurt drags him down the street, slipping on patches of ice and compressed snow, snowflakes catching in his hair and eyelashes as Blaine sings back.

 _"Open your door, I'll be your tenant_  
Don't got much baggage to lay at your feet  
But sweet kisses I've got to spare  
I'll be there and I'll cover you."

They're dancing down the streets, holding hands, with the snow swirling around them, singing to and only for each other, smiling as they press close, Kurt's hands on the notch of Blaine's waist and Blaine's arms wrapped loosely around Kurt's neck as they both slow and quiet and stop, gazing deep into each other's eyes.

Kurt giggles softly, and Blaine feels the vibration of it in Kurt's chest as it bubbles joyfully out of him, where they're pressed close and intimate, and he can't help the way his lips quirk easily up into a smile as he asks, "What's so funny?"

"You've got a little snowflake stuck to you," Kurt murmurs, voice lilting with laughter, and he slides one hand up from Blaine's waist, warmth and electricity and sudden knee-weakening want shooting through Blaine's at the glide of Kurt's skin along the lines of his torso through his shirt and jacket. "Right...here." He drags a thumb against Blaine's lip, tugging it down against his chin, and Blaine gazes up at him, feeling light-headed, like flying, with Kurt's thumb still resting lightly on his lip, and it feels like every nerve in his body is utterly alive, thrumming with thrills and anticipation and nervousness.

Kurt kisses him, a sudden duck of his head to capture Blaine's upper lip between his, kissing and sucking, hands gripping Blaine's waist and holding him steady when his legs go entirely out from beneath him and he almost buckles, loose and pliable and eager in Kurt's arms, hanging like a monkey from around his neck, kissing back with as much abrupt desperation, entire body seemingly swelling with longing for Kurt. He feels like he's flying and floating and falling all at once, and it's crazy, but he could be falling, here in the snow with Kurt.

And he never wants to leave.


	6. Six

**Pairing:**  Kurt/Blaine

 **Rating:**  NC-17/M

 **Story Warnings/Kinks:** Mpreg, bp!Blaine, age difference, birth scenes, allusions to dubcon/slavery, mentions of miscarriage

* * *

 

The bell toll of Quinn's laugh echoes through from the spare bedroom as Kurt finishes polishing his boots and drags the zips carefully up, all the way to his knees, trying not to get it stuck in the thick fabric of his jeans. He stands up straight, checks his hair one more time and flips again through his picks for the evening:  _Moulin Rouge_ ,  _Les Miserables_  and  _When Harry Met Sally_. Crossing the living room, he knocks lightly on Quinn's door and calls, "I'm going out for the night, I'll be back before midnight so can you please be done with the ecstatic screaming by then!"

"We'll try!" Quinn's gentleman friend calls back, laughter in his voice, and Kurt rolls his eyes at Quinn's giggle, poaching the bottle of champagne and two glasses she's laid out. From the sounds of it and the look of the firmly closed bedroom door, they won't be putting it into use anyway, and there's no sense in it going to waste.

He walks to the centre, turning up his collar against the harsh breeze, boots crunching over the snow laying thick on the ground, mind spinning with memories of winter wonderland, dancing and singing with Blaine as a hundred different snowflakes fell around them, kissing and breathless whispers of wonder, of new and hope and potential. He knows it was his idea to have the meetings, but sometimes he thinks if it wouldn't have been better to just take Blaine and have it done, because every moment only intensifies the idea of keeping him close, the thought of becoming more than just client and giver, the knowing that he won't be able to let go even when the time calls for it.

Blaine's barefoot when he gets there, hair loose in wild curls around his lit-up face, and he looks so young, his sweats slightly too long for him and dragging behind his heels with every step, his shirt a little too tight and clinging to his arms and the soft cushion of his belly, emblazoned with a symbol of a bird flying against a white moon. He laughs when he sees Kurt's eyes on it, trying to figure out where he's seen it before, and explains, "Nightbird, this superhero I invented when I was about three. I used to dress up as him every Halloween, and I was horrified when no one knew I was Nightbird, the Nocturnal Avenger. I even found my neighbour's missing guinea pig eating cat food in my garage once."

Kurt laughs, already picturing a small boy with Blaine's wild curls too much for his tiny face, his shining eyes and deep dimples, wrapped in a blanket and trying to fly by jumping off a chair, young and innocent and nothing lost yet to the cynicisms of the world. That could be their baby, a boy with Blaine's hair and round cheeks and dimples and his own eyes and paler skin, running to Kurt's arms after a day at the office while Blaine awaits them, barefoot and wearing too-long sweats, presenting his cheek for a kiss that turns into a thousand. "Okay," he says, shaking himself out of his trance, forcing himself to stop picturing a future he can't have, "we have a choice of three films, it was all I could find in a rush to get out because my friend who I reluctantly cohabitate with is having gentlemen callers visit to deflower her." Blaine laughs and his eyes light up even more when Kurt presents the three films.

"Put  _Moulin Rouge_  on, I haven't watched it for a few years," he says, and Kurt pretends to be utterly horrified by the very idea as he slots the DVD into the player and hesitates for a few seconds before Blaine's welcoming smile hooks him in and he unzips his boots and slides them off to climb into the bed with him, cuddling closer and only briefly burying his face in Blaine's curls to inhale the sweet raspberry scent of his shampoo.

Blaine curls in closer as the film starts, sighing in contentment and laying his head on Kurt's chest, right over where his heart is racing in his chest at this proximity, and Kurt's voice is soft and gentle when he says, "We agreed last week that we'd talk about bad experiences this week. Do you want to go first, or will I?"

"I will," Blaine says, his voice a little more solemn, and he nudges even closer, matching his thigh to Kurt's hip, curling his fingers into the loose fabric of his shirt and sliding his bare feet against Kurt's socked ones. "It happened just after I turned sixteen, maybe a week before I came here to sign on as a carrier. My whole school knew about my anatomy, I'd already been transferred once because I was beaten up at a school dance for daring to come with another boy. I was in the locker room after the lifeguard, who was a lovely lady, had given me a key so I could swim after school, just to calm down a little and think about whether I was really going to take the chance and sign my body over to bear other people's children. I was getting changed and I hadn't put my shirt on yet when someone else came in. This guy from the football time, really huge, broad shoulders and big arms, and he didn't say anything but I could feel him right behind him, he was breathing on the back of my neck and when I turned around to ask him to move away he kissed me, and he was pressing me right up against the lockers and his tongue was all gross and wet and bobbly and he was trying to touch me, but I managed to knee him in the balls and get away and I had to run out to my car with no shirt on and it was so cold and I couldn't get it out of my head for weeks and sometimes it still..." He trails off, shaking against Kurt, breathing slow and shuddering, and Kurt wraps his arms around him, holding him close, kissing the top of his head.

"Mine doesn't even compare to that," Kurt says quietly, hugging Blaine close and secretly thrilling a little inside when Blaine puts his arms around his waist and squeezes, pressing his face into the crook of Kurt's neck, and neither of them is really listening to Satine singing  _Sparkling Diamonds_  onscreen. "Okay, but when I was nineteen and I first got into Parsons, I met this amazing guy. His name was Brandon, and I thought he was my soulmate. We were engaged four months after we got together and I was so in love with him, I thought he was the be all and end all and there would never be another guy for me. But I came home one day and he was in bed with someone else, all this kissing and touching, and he was telling him all the things he told me, about how beautiful he was and how much he wanted and it hurt so much worse than if I'd just found him plain fucking someone else. I threw the ring back at him, and I got a different apartment, washed my hands of him, dropped out of Parsons and became a recluse for five months before I got the internship at . That's the worse thing that's ever happened to me."

Blaine sighs sadly, and kisses Kurt's chest, right over his heart, and Kurt's breath stutters in his throat. He looks up, their eyes meet and Blaine slides up the bed in a single fluid movement to kiss him, hands cupping Kurt's face and pulling until Kurt's almost on top of him, and he has to pull away momentarily to ask, "Is this okay?" and wait for Blaine's nod before he lets it go further, hand creeping down Blaine's side and slipping just beneath the hem of his shirt, finding warm skin he wants to hold and sustain and devour.

It gets far too hot far too fast, heat passionate and lustful pressing in around them, Kurt trailing one hand down the outside of Blaine's thigh to hitch his leg up around his waist, hand sliding higher and higher beneath Blaine's shirt, rucking up the material to just below his nipples, peaked against the fabric, and Blaine's hands sliding lower and lower on Kurt's back, then slipping fully down to curve perfectly over his ass, drawing them together like the sea and the sand curving around each other in perfect harmony against the horizon.

"Oh my God, we need to cool down," Kurt murmurs, jerking away and rolling off Blaine, crossing his legs to hide the obvious bulge pressing painfully against his jeans, staring resolutely straight ahead at the television, watching Satine try to coerce Christian into sex, which isn't the best scene to cool down during. Blaine sits up slowly, brushing his hair out of his face, smile a little dazed as he gazes at Kurt, open and warm and full of something deeper, something frightening and thrilling and wanted.

When they're both sure they've calmed down a little, Blaine leans against Kurt's side as  _Your Song_  fills the room, pretty and delicate and full of falling as Kurt is for the younger man with his head pillowed on his shoulder, hair awry and eyes still dark with arousal, and he turns his head to brush his lips against the shell of Blaine's ear as he sings, " _How wonderful life is now you're in the world_."


	7. Seven

**Pairing:**  Kurt/Blaine

 **Rating:**  NC-17/M

 **Story Warnings/Kinks:** Mpreg, bp!Blaine, age difference, birth scenes, allusions to dubcon/slavery, mentions of miscarriage

* * *

"So tonight's the night," Tina teases, sliding into place at the table, opposite Blaine, and flashing him a knowing smile as he blushes and ducks his head bashfully. "Are you excited to finally sleep with this man you've got this enormous crush on?"

"Well, another day, another client, another pregnancy," Blaine jokes, covering the fast pace of his heartbeat, the electricity thrumming through his body at the idea of Kurt's hands on him, entwined with him all through the night.

Blaine can't help the excitement humming beneath his skin all through the day, as he flits around his room, tidying and double-checking everything, waiting for the phone to ring, nervously choosing and changing his outfit until he finally settles on what are probably the tightest jeans he owns and an equally tight polo, tying his bowtie just so, absolutely perfect, feeling a frisson of excitement at leaving his hair loose of its gel and forgoing underwear.

Emma knocks three times on the door at precisely eight o'clock, and Blaine leaps to his feet to answer, Kurt smiling shyly at him as Emma pushes him lightly in the small of the back and leaves them alone with a warm smile and a wink to Blaine.

Silence reigns between them, filled with tension and words they're both too afraid to say, until Kurt says, "I don't know how we're supposed to do this," sitting down on the edge of the bed, shoes still on and polished to a perfect shine, drawing his lower lip between his teeth.

"Someone once told me," Blaine breathes, dropping to his knees in front of Kurt and slowly unlacing his shoes, savouring every moment, "that every intimate encounter you ever have in your life starts with a touch." He drags his eyes up Kurt's legs, over his hips and waist and chest, to meet his eyes. "We could start with just a touch of the fingertips." His mouth is dry as he slides their fingers together, Kurt's fingers warm, a flush rising in his cheeks as Kurt's eyelashes flutter slightly.

Blaine slowly lifts himself up from his knees, the bedsprings squeaking softly as he sits down beside Kurt. "And maybe you'd...you'd cup my cheek," he murmurs, voice a little rough, and Kurt does just that. His skin is so soft, and his touch sends electricity singing through Blaine and he leans into it just a little. "Then I could put my hands on your waist and move a little closer." Kurt's eyes are dark and shining and wanting as Blaine shuffles close, trailing a bare foot down Kurt's calf. "And then we'd just...get lost in the moment."

Kurt moves first to kiss him, slow and deep, hand creeping around to the back of Blaine's neck, scratching at the curls at the base of his neck, and Blaine's hands slide up Kurt's sides, over his shoulders, momentarily framing his face before sinking into his hair as Kurt lowers them into the bed, hands running over clothed skin until Kurt pulls away for a quick breath and Blaine tentatively suggests, "Maybe we should take some clothes off?"

Shirts are shed quickly, and Kurt's hand are exploring Blaine's skin, mapping newly-revealed territory, his expression one of wonderment as he leans in for another sweet kiss. "You're more beautiful than I ever imagined," he whispers, pressing closer, their chests dragging deliciously together, making Blaine's fingers clench into Kurt's hair.

"You...you thought about me?" he asks softly, stifling a groan when Kurt finds the sensitive spot low on his neck and flicks his tongue expertly against the skin, kissing and scraping his teeth against it and dragging a quiet moan from Blaine before he can choke it back.

"Every night," Kurt promises, sliding over Blaine, every muscle of his body pressed close to him, and Blaine feels the outline of Kurt's cock for the first time, pushing into his stomach, and arousal thrills through him, the throbbing between his legs intensifying. "I couldn't stop thinking about you. The way you taste, the way you smell, the way you feel pressed up against me, the way you could look underneath your polos and bowties, the way you might sound when I was lucky enough to touch you for the first time." He meets Blaine's eyes, his very dark beneath the fringe of lashes. "Do you think about me?"

"Always," Blaine breathes, and Kurt kisses him again, so much more intense, hands gliding down his neck and chest, smoothing over the skin, and after a moment his lips begin to follow the same path, and Blaine bites the side of his hand to stifle a cry at the damp warmth of Kurt's mouth and tongue dragging over his skin, squirming a little beneath him. "I think about how you feel when you're close, I think about how you kiss me, how it feels with you on top of me. I think about the way you just smile and it makes my heart race, because I always knew that one day you'd be kissing me and smiling so we can -  _oh_  - so we can make a baby."

"We're not just making a baby," Kurt says softly, cupping Blaine's cheek tenderly even as his other hand works first Blaine's, then his own jeans open and pushes them down as far as he can, a flush rising rapidly up his neck into his cheeks when he realises Blaine's lack of underwear.

"We're not?" Blaine asks, eyes curious and innocent and bright as he looks up at Kurt. No one has ever said something so romantic to him, neither of his attempts at relationships made it to behind a closed bedroom door, and it's always been his understanding with clients that they're with him to get what they paid for, nothing more.

"We're making love," Kurt whispers, and Blaine feels the blush rising in his cheeks, because no one has ever said something so sweet, so intimate to him before, and Kurt's baring himself for him, more than just physically, opening his arms and his heart. He blinks back the tears prickling behind his eyes, and smiles up at Kurt, dizzyingly happy, wrapping his arms around him for another long kiss.

They part momentarily to rid themselves of their remaining clothes, and reconnect smiling shyly, pressing close and intimate, slick with sweat and trembling with want, and Kurt slides his hands down Blaine's sides, his gaze so piercing Blaine looks away, blushing hotly. Kurt's hand is warm on his cheek as he turns Blaine's head to kiss him, sweet and deep and so intimate Blaine wants to cry. Kurt leans down, brushing a gentle kiss against his cheek, and asks, "Do you need any...preparation before we do this? Like, fingers, or some sort of toy?"

"No one else has ever done it, and I don't need it," Blaine says softly, brushing Kurt's hair out of his eyes even as a sudden frisson of desire skitters down his spine at the idea of Kurt opening him up, those long, slender fingers inside him, or working the vibrator hidden in the bottom drawer of his nightstand in and out of him, opening him up to take Kurt inside, for Kurt to stretch him with the cock that he can feel, long and hard and thick and hot against him.

"But you want it," Kurt whispers, and Blaine nods fervently at the scratch of Kurt's stubble against his cheek. "I've done some research, since I've never been with a carrier before, and I know what you could want." He flushes and ducks his head as he murmurs, "I might even have watched some...instructional videos."

Blaine breath hitches at the thought of Kurt watching porn, with that wonderful absorbed expression on his face as he tries to learn how to make Blaine feel good. The first real moan falls from his lips when Kurt slides his fingers down and nervously circles his stiff clit. "Feel good?" he asks softly.

"So- _oh_  good," Blaine gasps out, rutting his hips down for more of Kurt's touch as he grows more confident, and Kurt's groaning at his every moan, thrusting his erection against Blaine's stomach, lowering his mouth to Blaine's, kissing off-centre and hard, sloppy and wet and too much tongue, more often than not just panting and moaning half-utterance of each other's names into each other's mouths.

"I'm ready," Blaine growls out after five minutes of kissing and moaning and Kurt's fingers working in and out of him. "Please, Kurt, I need you in me. I want you so bad." Kurt presses a finger to his lips to keep him quiet as he withdraws his fingers, and Blaine covers his mouth with his hand to keep from crying out loud enough to wake the entire centre when Kurt pushes into him. "Kurt,  _God_ , oh my God,  _please_."

"Wow," Kurt breathes, meeting his eyes, breathless and ecstatic and disbelieving. "Oh,  _Blaine_ , you're so beautiful. You feel...feel so good around me. I just want to...this isn't going to last long, I'm sorry."

"Why should you be sorry?" Blaine asks softly, feeling the light of ecstasy dim a little inside, shifting his head to the side to avoid Kurt's eyes. "This isn't about making it last long. This is just making a baby. The quicker the better."

Kurt's finger hook around his chin and gently turn his head to look deep into his eyes, making Blaine feel weak in the knees even though he's lying down. "This isn't just about having a baby," he murmurs, kissing his jaw, nipping down his neck and to his chest, laying his head there and listening to the pounding of Blaine's heart. "This is about us. Taking this next step. And I want to make it perfect for you, but I'm just so close just from watching you, and you're so perfect and hot and tight, I just...I can't."

And it's Blaine's turn to reassure Kurt, stroking his hair gently, carding his fingers through the soft strands and smiling sweetly up at him. "It's okay," he promises softly. "I don't care if it's quick. I just want you to make love to me. I don't think I'll last long either."

Kurt kisses him then, deep and dirty and desperate, and Blaine moans roughly into his mouth, curling his hands into Kurt's hips, clinging hard and hoping to mark him, make him remember every time he undresses. Kurt's hips stutter at his touch and his lips go slack, both of them just panting into each other's mouths now, not kissing but simply lips pressed together and bodies sliding and writhing, pressing close and fervently desperate.

He comes first, with a cry of Kurt's name that he doesn't even try to muffle, pressing his face into Kurt's neck and kissing gently at the sensitive skin as Kurt continues thrusting, growing faster and faster until he groans, " _Blaine_!" and comes.

Kurt's getting up to leave when Blaine sits up and begs, "Please don't go. Stay with me. Just...stay." Kurt smiles at him and slides back into bed next to him, wrapping his arms around him and curling close, one hand spreading wide and warm over Blaine's stomach, and for a moment Blaine sees a flash of a future where he could lie in bed with Kurt's hand curved over a swollen, pregnant belly, with another child sleeping next door and rings on their fingers.

In hits him in a flash, running through his body and tingling like electricity in his fingers and toes, trying to escape and be expressed in any way possible.

He's in love with Kurt.


	8. Eight

**Pairing:**  Kurt/Blaine

 **Rating:**  NC-17/M

 **Story Warnings/Kinks:** Mpreg, bp!Blaine, age difference, birth scenes, allusions to dubcon/slavery, mentions of miscarriage

* * *

Kurt knocks lightly on Blaine's door, seeing him lounging on the bed, kicking his feet aimlessly at the air, and his eyes rake greedily over the skin of his back exposed by his rucked-up shirt, his hair loose, the birthmark of the back of his neck that Kurt wants to mark up over and over, leave a bruise lingering for days and show that Blaine  _belongs_  to him. He grins when Blaine looks up, and his entire face lights up like a firework display when he sees Kurt. "What are you doing here?" he asks cheerfully, springing up and crossing the room quickly into Kurt's arms, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek.

"Do you know yet?" Kurt asks desperately, unsure of whether he wants the answer to be positive or negative, whether he wants to have to let Blaine go or keep him in his arms for a little longer without knowing if he'll get to ever meet a baby with his and Blaine's features mingled in perfect harmony.

"I like to wait a week before I take the test, and it's only been five days," Blaine says softly, brushing a kiss against the line of Kurt's jaw, hands sliding a little lower on Kurt's back, fingers teasing at the waistband of his jeans. "So no, I don't know."

"Maybe we should just try again," Kurt whispers teasingly, brushing his fingertips against Blaine's neck, making Blaine shiver in his arms. "Just to give us a better chance of you getting pregnant." Blaine nods and spins out of Kurt's arms to shut and lock the door, eyes on Kurt dark and smile brightly hopeful as he beckons Kurt close.

Blaine's hand scratches up Kurt's back beneath his shirt, one leg hitched high around his waist as Kurt presses him back against the door, arms tight around his slender waist and holding him close, gliding a hand up Blaine's side to tug desperately at his own tie, working it loose and pulling it off before popping open the buttons on his shirt, shrugging out of it and smirking at Blaine's groan of frustration when his eager hands encounter undershirt instead of skin.

"Bed," Blaine murmurs, breath punctuated by a desperate moan as Kurt lifts him easily into his arms and crosses the room with Blaine's lips frantic on his and Blaine's legs wrapped around his waist, tipping him onto the bed and tugging his shirt up over his head.

"I haven't stopped thinking about you all week," Kurt says between frantic kisses, reaching down to tug his shoelaces loose and kick the shoes away, working their jeans open when his hand trails back up the outside of Blaine's leg. "I can't stop thinking about the noises you made and how gorgeous you looked spread out underneath me and how you blushed when I kissed you and how amazing you looked when you came. I want it all again."

Blaine trembles desperately beneath him, craning up to pull him down for another kiss, breaking away only long enough to pull Kurt's undershirt back up over his head and throw it to the ground before kissing him again, smiling at him with his eyes swirling dark. "I want you so bad," he whispers through a moan.

Kurt nods as he leans down to kiss him again, sliding his tongue into Blaine's mouth and rocking with him, sliding first his jeans then Blaine's down as far as he can, giggling as Blaine flails his feet around to kick them off. "You are adorable," he says against Blaine's lips, smiling into the kiss.

"Because that's what a guy wants to hear when he's mostly-naked in bed with someone," Blaine teases, and Kurt just giggles again, nipping at Blaine's jaw as Blaine's hands slide beneath his boxers to curve over his ass, his toes hooking into the waistband to push the underwear away as he guides Kurt's hand to his hip. "Kurt, please, take these off, I want you, I  _need_  you."

Kurt kisses him, sliding his underwear down and pushing slowly into Blaine, gasping out once he's fully-sheathed, a half-utterance of Blaine's name and soft, "Oh  _fuck_." Blaine smiles up at him, eyes dazed and pupils swollen black, and he looks so utterly blissful, hovering on the edge of loving, that Kurt feels his heart clench in his chest and his stomach tingle and his heart soar, because he's falling for Blaine, right here in this bed, surrounded by slick heat and Blaine's moans echoing prettily in his ears and Blaine's fingers composing delicate symphonies on his skin.

Blaine's hands scrape down his back, nails raking raised red lines into his sweat-slick skin, and curve over his ass to jolt him forward, and both of them moan, Kurt slowly starting to pick up a rhythm with his thrusts, kissing Blaine in an attempt to muffle his cries of pleasure until Blaine shakes and comes, moaning out, "Ku- _urt_!" into Kurt's mouth, and Kurt follows him just a minute later.

"I can't stay," he says, sitting up and reaching for his clothes, Blaine still breathing heavily, lying still and sated and pliable in the bed, smiling sweetly at him. "But you are amazing. Every time I'm with you is amazing. You are the most perfect man I know." Blaine grins, a flush nestling high in his cheeks, and pulls him close to kiss him hard before Kurt leaves, lips bruised and his undershirt and boxers balled up in his pockets.

He waits two days. He thinks about Blaine, beneath him and all around him, whispering his name reverently, with his hand on himself in the dead of night. In the day, he thinks of Blaine waiting to know whether he's pregnant, thinks of how he'll have to let go of Blaine if he is pregnant, give up those daydreams of a family life, because of the stupid contract, because they found each other under these circumstances.

And he can't wait. He goes back to the centre, and he finds Blaine sitting stiff-legged on his bed, hands beneath his thighs, and his eyes are wet when he looks up to meet Kurt's. Kurt clears his throat and Blaine stands, crossing the room to be closer as Kurt asks, "Are you-"

"I'm pregnant," Blaine says softly, and Kurt exhales shakily, blinking back the tears stinging at his eyes, and wraps his arms around Blaine, hugging him close. A single tear slides down his cheek and falls into Blaine's hair, and Kurt clings to him, not wanting to let go, even though he knows he has to.

He's in love with Blaine. The first time he's found such a beautiful, intimate, wonderful connection in years and he has to let it go because of the way they met. He can't possibly let Blaine go.

But he has to.


	9. Nine

**Pairing:**  Kurt/Blaine

 **Rating:**  NC-17/M

 **Story Warnings/Kinks:** Mpreg, bp!Blaine, age difference, birth scenes, allusions to dubcon/slavery, mentions of miscarriage

* * *

When Kurt next graces the doorway of Blaine's room, six weeks after he told him they're having a baby, Blaine finds himself unable to hold back the tears the moment that beautifully familiar, musical voice softly says, "Hi." Kurt rushes across the room to wrap an arm around him as the tears course down his cheeks, muffled sobs escaping between the fingers of the hand he has clamped across his mouth. "Blaine, sweetheart, don't cry. I'm sorry I didn't come to see you, I've been working a lot and trying to figure things out, please don't cry."

"I thought you'd abandoned me," Blaine chokes out through his tears, cradled against Kurt's side, Kurt's hand sliding curiously over his hip to run over the slight, almost imperceptible new bulge of his belly. "You hear about clients who do that, get someone pregnant and then decide they're not really ready to have a baby and run away. I don't want you to leave me."

"I won't," Kurt promises, squeezing Blaine's hand and hugging him close, a sheen of tears shining in his eyes as Blaine blots up his tears with the edge of his sleeve, sniffling softly. "I'll never leave you, Blaine. I don't want to leave you. I couldn't."

Blaine slumps against Kurt, a new wave of tears slipping down his flushed cheeks. "I know you're lying," he murmurs brokenly. "When I have the baby, this relationship between us will be over. You'll take your son or daughter and just leave me behind. I'm just a carrier. I don't matter."

"Of course you matter, Blaine," Kurt says softly, brushing a curl away from his forehead and kissing his forehead softly. "You'll always matter to me." He clears his throat and cups Blaine's cheek gently, keeping their eyes locked as he says, "I came here today because I have something to say to you. I've thought about this for all these weeks while I've been finishing my designs for the spring shows, and I know you might think this is strange, and you might freak out about it, and I know this isn't the way these arrangements are supposed to go, but you just need to listen. I need you to know this, I need to be able to admit to myself that I did tell you, that I didn't back out because I was scared." He presses his forehead to Blaine's and says, barely a warm breath against Blaine's lips, "I love you. Blaine, I'm in love with you."

Blinking damp eyes and clumped-together lashes at Kurt, jaw a little slack with shock, Blaine sniffs hard and squeaks out, "What? Am I...is this a dream?" Kurt pinches his side, and he jumps at the sharp pain, and Kurt smiles reassuringly at him, a single tear rolling down his cheek. "I'm not dreaming," he murmurs disbelievingly. "I'm not dreaming. You...you really love me?" Kurt nods once, pressing a tender kiss to the corner of his mouth, and Blaine lurches into his open, waiting arms, hooking his chin over Kurt's shoulder. " _Kurt_ , I love you too. I can't believe you love me. Why...when...how did it happen?"

"You were there," Kurt says softly, stroking his hair and cradling him closer with a hand gentle at the small of his back. "I never thought someone could make me as happy as you did after what happened with Brandon, but you made me fly when we spent time together. You make me laugh and you're so beautiful and I don't normally kiss on the first date, Blaine. I thought you were gorgeous the first time we met, and I'll never stop thinking that. I love you so much, and I don't want to let you go."

Finally pulling out of Kurt's strong, warm embrace, Blaine gazes sadly at him as Kurt plays with his hands, smiling hopefully at him with his eyes shining and a flush curling high in his cheeks. "Kurt, I have a ten year contract here, and I'm only halfway through it," he says quietly, tone going monotonous and heart heavy with sadness. "I love you, I do, but I don't have the money to get out of it, and this is my home, my career. This is everything I know."

"So, I'll buy out your contract," Kurt says as if it doesn't matter, as if money is as easy to find as the new leaves growing on the trees outside. "I don't want to leave you here. I don't want to think about you being here alone, away from me. I can't bear the thought of you having other people's children. I just want you with me, and I want us to have children, and a dog, and the house with the white picket fence. I want a family, and I want you to make it with me. I think you're the love of my life, Blaine."

"We've known each other three months, Kurt," Blaine reminds him softly. "People don't fall in love in three months. You don't find the love of your life at a carrier centre."

"Maybe we're the exception," Kurt whispers, and Blaine feels his cheeks warm with a blush of pleasure as Kurt kisses him, hands secure on his waist as he turns his head to deepen the kiss, wrapping his arms firmly around Blaine as Blaine's fingers curl into the material of his shirt over his chest. "I love you, Blaine. I'll do whatever it takes to keep you with me."

"But Kurt, it'll be insanely expensive to try and buy out my contract when I've committed to five more years here, you can't put all your money into me, it's only been a few months," Blaine repeats, and Kurt just smiles at him, pressing their foreheads together as he caresses his belly.

"This is worth everything to me, Blaine," he whispers into the small space between them. "You, and our baby. I want to keep both of you close. I think about us all the time, Blaine. Marriage, and a beautiful baby, and our careers. You can do whatever you want, you can go to college, my job has flexible hours and I can watch the baby. I know I'm seven years older than you, and I know you might want to live a little bit when you get out of here, but I love you, and I want to start a life together now. Even though you'd be worth the wait, I don't know if I could wait five more years. Please consider it."

"But it'll be so expensive, and then you'll have to support me through the pregnancy and then, if I did go to college, there'd only be one income for a long time," Blaine says, blinking away tears. "Love won't get us through. Kurt, I'm sorry, but I just think it would be too hard. I'm not supposed to get attached to clients, this place is my home, and I don't want you paying even more money to get me out because you think I'm your one and only after a few months."

Kurt's face falls, and he stands up, trying to hide the quiver in his lower lip and the tears in his eyes. "I just don't care about the money," he says angrily. "I care about you, and being allowed to make you and me an us. But if you care more about your home here and the money you make than me, then I'll just leave."

"Kurt, please, I love you so much, I'm just thinking about you and the money you'll have to invest, I don't want you to support me for years after you paid money for us to have a baby and money for us to date and money so I can leave here with you," Blaine says frantically, pushing himself up and following Kurt as he starts leaving, swallowing back the lump in his throat and grabbing Kurt's arm. "Please don't leave me. Take time if you need it, but please see that I'm thinking of you here. Please don't forget about me."

Bouncing up onto his toes, Blaine kisses Kurt hard, sinking his hands into his hair and holding him still, watching his eyes flutter open when he pulls away. "I'll think about it, and you think about it properly, and come back when you want to talk," he says softly, and Kurt nods dazedly and leaves.


	10. Ten

**Pairing:**  Kurt/Blaine

 **Rating:**  NC-17/M

 **Story Warnings/Kinks:** Mpreg, bp!Blaine, age difference, birth scenes, allusions to dubcon/slavery, mentions of miscarriage

 **Additional Warning:**  Finn features in this chapter

* * *

The days pass achingly slowly. The fall of night breaks Kurt's heart, as he lies in bed with the salt of his tears slicking his cheeks, thinking of Blaine refusing to leave his world behind and be his for the rest of their lives, but the rise of the sun heals him, when he thinks of Blaine earnestly confessing that he loves him, eyes honest and soul open, and knows deep within himself that Blaine won't leave what they have behind. Love is everything to Kurt, it's always been worth more than money, and if he needs to pay extortionate amounts to release Blaine from his contract, marry him and raise a family, he'll do whatever it takes.

Worried for him, during the second week of waiting Quinn orders him to go and see his parents, forcing from the house and locking the door behind him, promising she won't be letting him back in until Finn texts her to tell her Kurt dropped by the house. Rolling his eyes, Kurt wraps his coat more securely around himself against the early spring chill and walks through the misted streets to the house he left nine years ago, seeing Finn's car in the driveway and knowing he's visiting for a while to introduce their parents to their first grandchild.

"Anybody home?!" he calls when he steps into the house, and he hears a shout before he's being hoisted up by Finn's strong arms, a large hand ruffling his hair affectionately before Finn sets him back down, grinning broadly at him.

"I missed you, little brother," Finn says, eyes bright and almost bouncing where he stands, as if he's six years old, not twenty-seven with a wife and a newborn baby. "You want to meet your niece? She's a keeper, looks just like her gorgeous mom."

"Flattery will get you nowhere, Hudson," comes Louisa's familiar voice, and Kurt laughs as he embraces his sister-in-law, kissing her cheek and giving her outfit an approving nod. "It's great to see you, Kurt. We wanted to come earlier, but newborns are not as easy as people try to tell you. Remember that, it'll help you a lot in later life."

Kurt thinks of how soon he'll be heeding this advice, but pushes it down to let the couple guide him into the kitchen, where Carole's cooing over a baby girl barely visible in her cocoon of blankets and Burt stands up the moment he sees Kurt, striding across the room in four long steps to hug him, enveloping him entirely and making Kurt feel like a child again, clinging to his father when all hope seems lost.

"Meet your niece," Finn says, beaming with pride as he lifts his daughter carefully into his arms. "Kurt Hummel, we want you to meet Bryony Anne Hudson, two months old and the greatest thing in the world after the rest of your guys in this room."

As Finn sets the baby into Kurt's arms, nodding as they naturally form into a cradle, a moment flashes across Kurt's mind, suspended in time. One day, holding his own child like this, with Blaine at his side, exhausted from labour but proud, eyes shining, hand resting lightly on their baby's head and a smile only for Kurt on his lips.

"Kid, are you okay?" Burt asks, and Kurt blinks back to reality and realises he's crying, tears slipping down his cheeks and dripping onto Bryony's blanket, leaving dark spots on the pale pink. "Come on, talk to me."

"In private," Kurt says softly, and Burt just nods, waiting for Kurt to pass Bryony back to her father before following him out into the hallway and shutting the door on the chatter and celebration in the kitchen, his father looking at him with expectant eyes as Kurt tugs awkwardly at the fabric of his own shirt before he says, "I'm going to be a father, Dad."

Burt's jaw drops, his eyes wide, and Kurt tentatively continues, "I decided I wasn't going to keep waiting around for someone to have a family with and I can afford to raise a child alone, so I went to the carrier centre. But the carrier I chose, he's...he's amazing. I didn't want the impersonal side of the process, so we got to know each other before we had sex, we went out on dates and talked and he's so wonderful, he makes me so happy. But I made a mistake, Dad. I fell in love with him, and I want to buy out his contract so we can be together but he doesn't want me to because of the cost and I'm so scared I'll lose him."

With a sigh, Burt squeezes Kurt's shoulder gently and says, "Kiddo, if you want to be with him, you do anything you want to do within the law to get him. Is he pregnant or not?" Kurt nods, and Burt smiles slowly. "Another grandchild for Carole and I. Kurt, I'm proud of you for stepping up to this, and I know I haven't seen you this happy since Brandon. Good luck." Kurt hugs his father tightly before he shouts his goodbyes and leaves the house, swinging his coat over his shoulders and walking purposefully towards the centre.

Kurt knocks lightly on the door to Blaine's room, clutching the single red rose to his chest and waiting for Blaine to appear in the doorway, grey sweats too long and pooling around his feet, red shirt clinging to the beginnings of a baby bump. "Hi," he says softly, to Blaine's eyes lighting up and a helpless smile brightening his being. "I thought it over."

"I did too," Blaine says, ushering him in and closing the door with a soft snap, taking his hand as they sit down together on the bed, Kurt's foot pressed against Blaine's calf, always touching. "I thought about it and I know I'll do anything and go through anything to be with you. I think you are the love of my life, Kurt. My one and only. If you still want to pay that much money to get me out of here and into your arms, then I'm not going to try and stop you."

"Oh thank God," Kurt breathes out, throwing his arms around Blaine and pulling him as close as he can, fingers tangling into the curls at the back of his head, Blaine's chin tucked over his shoulder, face pressed into the crook of his neck, simply breathing him in. "I don't know what I would've done if you'd said no."

"I love you," Blaine whispers against his cheek, clutching at the loose fabric of his shirt, tucking his face even more securely into the crook of Kurt's neck.

"I love you too," Kurt replies simply, softly, stroking Blaine's hair before his hands move down his back, cradling him as close as he can, closing his eyes to memorise the feel of the beginnings of his bump pressed against his own stomach. "More than anything."


	11. Eleven

**Pairing:**  Kurt/Blaine

 **Rating:**  NC-17/M

 **Story Warnings/Kinks:** Mpreg, bp!Blaine, age difference, birth scenes, allusions to dubcon/slavery, mentions of miscarriage

* * *

 

Even with the knowledge warm and glowing in his chest, that Kurt loves him and will take him away from the centre as soon as he can, Blaine fights to keep their relationship a secret from the rest of his fellow workers. He wants to keep Kurt all to himself, sighing softly against his lips and smiling secretively when their fingers twine at their sides.  
  
Kurt visits every day he can, and always calls if he can’t make it because of his work, or once a family commitment, spending the day with his brother’s family, helping out with his newborn and practicing for their own baby. At the very mention of the child growing within Blaine, he flushes with excitement and cups a hand over the swell, rolling up his shirt to snap a picture that captures the jut of his belly button and the pale stretch marks beginning to sketch in at his hips, sending it to Kurt and receiving a  **Don’t make me cry in front of Finn and Louisa, I haven’t told them yet**  in return.  
  
It makes Blaine so happy, that Kurt seems so full of joy about their baby. He knows that Kurt is positively thrumming with excitement to come to the ultrasound when they’ll be able to know if they’re expecting a girl or a boy, to start picking out baby names and nursery furniture and painting the walls soft gender-neutral yellows and whites because Kurt refuses to put their baby in a niche of blue or pink, to begin planning their life together.  
  
A knock at the door interrupts Blaine’s moment of quiet reflection, fingers aimlessly drawing circles into the stretching skin of his belly, and he glances up to Kurt in the doorway, unwrapping his thin blue scarf and smiling at him as he slides the door closed with a telling gleam in his eye. “Hey there, beautiful,” he says softly, crossing the room to kiss Blaine, hands at his waist guiding him upright as Blaine’s arms twine around his neck, bringing him closer.  
  
“You have to stop calling me that,” Blaine says softly, carefully unpinning the identical black and white bird pins from Kurt’s chest and placing them on the nightstand.  
  
“Why should I?” Kurt asks, tucking a curl behind his ear and leaning their foreheads together. “That’s what you are, Blaine. My beautiful love, getting all round with our baby, my ray of sunshine. I love you so much, and I’m so glad I decided to give up searching for a husband and came here to have a baby. Apparently, you can get both for the price of one.”  
  
Blaine giggles as Kurt gestures for him to sit on the bed, leaning back against the pillows and watching Kurt unbutton his deep purple shirt through eyes heavy-lidded with lust, tilting his head as he considers Kurt’s words. “You want to marry me?”  
  
“Of course I do,” Kurt breathes, folding his shirt over the back of a chair and crawling towards Blaine, acres of pale skin, the flow of it only interrupted by the constellation of freckles at Kurt’s sun-warmed shoulders and the pink of his pebbled nipples. “During our second date, when you sang with me in the snow, I knew you were special, and you could work your way so easily into my heart, and stay there. By the time I was holding you while you cried into my shoulder, because you were pregnant, and you thought you’d lose me, I knew I was in love with you and I’d do anything to be with you. After the baby’s born, I desperately want you to be my husband.”  
  
“Yes,” Blaine says softly, even though it’s not a question. Kurt looks up at him with wide eyes and his brow furrowed in confusion, and Blaine curves a hand reverently over his belly as he says, “Kurt, as far as I’m concerned, you just proposed to me. And I’m saying yes.”  
  
“Oh my God,” Kurt whispers, eyes bright with a sheen of tears, a blush colouring his cheeks. “Can we pretend I didn’t just ask you to marry me and get a yes in your bedroom, while I’m shirtless and about to have sex with my beautiful boyfriend? Can you please block this out and wait until a later date when I have a custom-made suit and a candlelit dinner and a ridiculously expensive ring so we have a good story to tell our grandchildren?”

“If it comforts you any, then I’ll wait until some gorgeous and romantic evening to call it an official proposal,” Blaine says with laughter in his voice. “But remember that you said you desperately want to be my husband, and I said yes to everything you’ve ever said about our future together.”  
  
Kurt surges forward to meet him in a fierce kiss, cupping Blaine’s face gently between his hands as he presses close, kneeling between Blaine’s spread legs as his fingers slide downwards to unbutton his shirt, mouth breaking away from Blaine’s to slide hungrily over every inch of exposed skin, smacking wet kisses into the curve of his bump, making Blaine squeak and wriggle beneath Kurt. “I love you,” Blaine says softly, barely a whisper on the air between them, and Kurt glances up to him before rising to meet him a sweet kiss, fingernails scraping gently over the stretchmarks appearing at his sides.  
  
“I love you too, beautiful,” he says softly, and Blaine flushes at the affectionate nickname and the praise, gasping raggedly as Kurt’s deft fingers, expert by now in the art of getting them both out of their clothes as quickly as possible, yank his own sinfully tight jeans open and kick them away, leaving him achingly long and lithe in just his briefs, fingers inching beneath the elasticated waistband of Blaine’s sweatpants, gently caressing the sweaty skin he finds there. Every drop of blood in Blaine’s body seemingly rushes to between his legs, where he can feel how slick he is when his thighs rub together as he moves, his heartbeat seemingly pulsing there.  
  
“Kurt,  _please_ ,” he whispers faintly, the words curling desperately from his kiss-swollen lips. He doesn’t understand how Kurt can make him feel this way, need so much, when it hasn’t even been that long since the last time he felt Kurt hard and hot inside him, and he’s used to going months without having anyone else’s hands on him. “I can’t help it, I want you so bad right now.”  
  
“Hey, you don’t need to be embarrassed about it,” Kurt murmurs reassuringly, pulling his pants down and kicking their clothes off the bed, leaning over Blaine with a tender softness to his eyes. “I love you, I love making you feel like this and I love getting to be with you, inside you, feeling you around me. It’s the best part of my day.”  
  
“M-Maybe we could try something else?” Blaine questions uncertainly, and Kurt looks down at him with an encouraging smile, fingers plucking impatiently at his maternity boxers. “One of the girls here, Kitty, she’s just started an affair with someone outside of the centre, and she’s not embarrassed to freely talk about what they do together. Yesterday while Tina and I were doing yoga with her and Ryder, she was talking about how he gives her pleasure with her mouth, how it feels really good, and all I could think about was you pleasuring me like that.” At the look he can’t read in Kurt’s eyes, he hastily adds, “But you don’t have to, I just thought it would be interesting to try something other than you inside me.”  
  
“Blaine, that sounds... _amazingly_  hot,” Kurt breathes, and tackles Blaine to the bed in a dirty kiss, tongue rubbing against the roof of Blaine’s mouth and sliding sinuously against Blaine’s own, making him throb almost painfully. “I want to, of course I want to, you just sit tight and I’ll get to it right now.”  
  
Trembling violently with anticipation as Kurt slips down the bed, the soft slither of his skin against the sheet echoing on in Blaine’s ears, Blaine’s jaw slackens around a wanton moan as Kurt’s fingertips trace the shape of him through his boxers, a light teasing touch that has Blaine canting his hips down for more, aching and desperate and simply needing Kurt. “Kurt, more, please,” he pleads, voice rough with need, and gasps in relief as Kurt tugs his boxers down in one smooth movement and presses soft kisses against the insides of his thighs, inching higher with every touch of his hot, damp mouth, closer to where Blaine needs him to be.

Though it’s his first time feeling someone else take him like this, feeling so bare beneath the gentle touch of Kurt’s mouth, Blaine knows that it can never be better. Kurt is so gentle with him, treats him like he’s something to be revered, tongue slow and hot and sending pleasure in waves across Blaine’s skin, lips so soft when he kisses the tender insides of his thighs, making Blaine moan when he sees Kurt’s arm working furiously as he jerks himself off to the rhythm of Blaine’s thrusts into the slick heat of Kurt’s tongue exploring the very centre of him, both of them coming with barely a breath between their orgasms, falling against each other exhausted and sated and limp with the aftermath of pleasure.  
  
“I love you so much, you sexy, beautiful man,” Kurt whispers, and leans over to press a tender kiss to Blaine’s mouth, deepening it as Blaine’s tongue swipes at his lips, searching out his own taste.  
  
A knock pulls them reluctantly apart, and Kurt slips into the bathroom with a smile to fix himself up, Blaine wrapping himself in a robe and shuffling across the room, still feeling a little weak in the knees, to slide the bolt across and crack the door open.  
  
Slate-grey eyes and a familiar set mouth look back at him, and it seems for a moment as if he can’t breathe, heart pounding with the sudden shock after five years.  
  
“Dad?”


End file.
